


Bittersweet

by RoRoUrBoat



Series: Pridecember 2020 [3]
Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! Duel Monsters (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Angst, Character study(?), Coffee as a metaphor, Insecurity, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-03
Updated: 2020-12-03
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:22:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27866794
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RoRoUrBoat/pseuds/RoRoUrBoat
Summary: Pridecember Day 3 - Hot CocoaMirror piece and sorta-sequel to day 1. Makes more sense if you read the first part, but it's not necessary.Seto Kaiba is bitter and jaded and not much else. Atem sets out to prove him wrong.
Relationships: Kaiba Seto/Yami Yuugi | Atem
Series: Pridecember 2020 [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2035744
Comments: 4
Kudos: 11





	Bittersweet

**Author's Note:**

> Give it up for day 3, folks! I actually really like this one, especially as a mirror to my day 1 piece, so here's hoping you like it too, haha.

From a young age, Seto Kaiba had been bitter. The death of his parents. The rejection of his extended family. The orphanage. Gozaburo.

All of it swirled in a torrent at the back of his mind as a constant reminder not only of who he was, but _why_ he was.

And why he would never change.

Seto stilled his hands on his keyboard, huffing lightly and shaking his head. He couldn’t afford to be distracted by the past.

The door to his office swung open and Seto’s eyes drifted up from his computer. Atem sauntered in, took one look at Seto, and made a particularly unsubtle beeline for his desk.

Seto grunted in greeting, but didn’t say anything. Atem didn’t seem to mind. He just placed Seto’s coffee down on the desk and leaned against the side, humming quietly.

Seto eyed Atem wearily. Atem didn’t notice. In fact, Seto suspected he was being purposefully oblivious. If Atem wasn’t going to make any mention of Seto’s stormy mood, then he wouldn’t either.

A few minutes of potentially companionable silence passed, and Seto reached for his coffee, almost on autopilot.

He took a sip, swallowed, and glared at the flimsy cup as though it had offended him. Which it may as well have, considering the taste lingering in his mouth.

“What is this,” Seto demanded more than asked. Atem looked at him, shrugged, and sipped his own drink. A second later, Atem gestured to Seto’s cup and, ignoring his question, asked, “What do you think?”

Seto turned his glare from the cup to Atem, eyes searching from any signs of malicious intent. As usual, his rival had an unreadable poker face. Seto wasn’t sure what to trust. He didn’t enjoy being unsure.

“I think,” Seto began, slowly but not hesitantly, “that it’s not what you said you were getting.”

Atem shrugged again. Seto was losing his patience. “There’s this cute new cafe down the street,” Atem explained, unprompted, “They sell exotic drinks. Pretty expensive, but I thought I’d give it a try.”

Seto leveled a flat look at Atem, one that clearly said, _why should I care?_

Atem, the little _shit,_ let slip a quirk of his lips. He was _enjoying_ this. Seto may have enjoyed games, but he couldn’t stand not knowing the rules. If Atem didn’t hurry up-

“I figured you might like to try something different from your usual bitter black coffee.” Atem shrugged again, a perfect picture of innocence. Seto felt his heart rate increase, and he put his styrofoam cup on the desk with a little more force than necessary.

“I thought,” he started, throat dry for _no good reason_ , “I thought you liked it that way.”

Atem blanched, openly, when he registered what Seto said. Seto wasn’t paying enough attention to understand why. He was too busy thinking and thinking and _thinking._

Why would Atem give up on plain black coffee after all? Was he sick of it? Did it bore him? Was it not what he thought it was, too dark and bitter in the end? Seto felt sick. Why was he freaking out over something as simple as _coffee_ this didn’t make any sense why was his throat dry why couldn’t he _talk-_

Atem’s hand landed on Seto’s shoulder and he looked up, thrown from his stupor by the contact. 

“Seto,” Atem started, eyes boring into Seto’s, the most open and sincere Seto could remember him looking, “Trust me.” And he did. Those simple words, despite Seto’s wishes, soothed whatever had been building inside of him. Seto couldn’t help but trust Atem. If nothing else, he knew to never question his rival’s honesty.

“There’s nothing wrong with black coffee,” Atem said, a determined glint to his eyes. When Seto just swallowed, maybe a little louder than he meant, Atem continued. “I just felt that you might like-” Atem shook his head. “I felt that something different might _fit_ you.” Seto’s features shifted into a familiar frown. Atem wasn’t stupid. He should have _known_ that Seto preferred the familiarity of his usual bitter drink.

Before Seto could speak up, Atem began talking again, saying, “It’s hot cocoa.” 

That threw Seto off, and he almost snorted. What a thing to say.

“So you think I’d better “fit” something cloyingly sweet and full of sugar?” Seto said, ramping up, indignant and more than a little betrayed. “I have news for you, Atem; _that’s not who I am_ . If you really think that I’m better fit with something so _light_ as _hot cocoa_ -” Seto was spitting his words now, and he _knew_ they weren’t talking about some stupid beverages but he couldn't stop his tirade even if he wanted to. “-Then maybe you should reevaluate your image of me. Clearly, you don’t actually know who I am.”

Atem visibly bit his tongue. There was no doubt he wanted to argue back, to rise to Seto’s challenge, but he _didn’t_. Seto would have preferred it if he had. It would have been familiar, easy, even, to argue with Atem. But Atem wasn’t arguing. He just sighed.

Maybe he was tired of Seto after all.

“Seto, do one thing for me,” Atem implored, his face frustrated but his eyes glinting with a familiar shade of determination. Seto glared. Atem continued. “Take another sip of the drink.”

Seto was about to argue when Atem held up a hand. “Just... do it. Please.”

Seto acquiesced, and his eyebrows shot up when he did.

Dark. Spiced. Complex. _Bitter._ Seto held the flavor in his mouth for a few moments, analyzing. As he swallowed the concoction, Atem spoke again, breaking the heavy silence of Seto’s office.

“It’s Central American hot cocoa.”

Seto tilted his head, a silent gesture to continue.

“I didn’t really understand everything the barista explained, but it’s crafted in a long process including raw cacao beans. It’s spiced carefully to taste and molded to be bitter with a hint of sweetness,” Atem finished, the explanation leaving him quickly. Seto raised his eyebrows, a careful facade covering the hesitant hope sparking in his chest.

Atem blushed. “I thought… I thought it fit you better.” He cleared his throat, forcing himself through what sounded almost like a rehearsed speech. “You’re… Seto, you’re stubborn, always doing your own thing. You’re made up of more facets than the simple bitterness you like to pretend is all you’re composed of. You help Mokuba with his homework, you play video games with me, you hold me at night when I can’t be strong, and-” Atem inhaled sharply, and Seto was alarmed to see emotion bleeding out of him like he’d been stabbed. “-And I see it. I see all of it. Most importantly, though, I want _you_ to see it, too. You’re more than what you think you are.” Atem finished, and Seto blinked. And blinked again.

He turned his attention from Atem to his hot cocoa. He lifted it carefully and took another sip. Let it sit on his tongue. It tasted just a little different, this time. Still complex. Still bitter. Still dark. But Seto could acknowledge the soft harmony created by what must have barely been any sugar. It was different. 

It was delicious.

He set the cup down, softly this time, and refocused on Atem. Atem sat, chewing the inside of his cheek and looking from the cup to Seto, back and forth.

Reaching for Atem’s face, Seto brought him into a gentle kiss. He tasted Atem’s own drink on his lips, and his eyes widened. 

It was the same hot cocoa.

Seto wanted to smirk. Somehow, he felt like he’d won something. He smiled instead.

**Author's Note:**

> Big thanks to Pridefulrose for giving me the idea to use Central American hot cocoa! I was actually sorta struggling with how to tie together my metaphor, and they came to my rescue! Y'all should definitely read their day 3 fic "two types of cocoa" after this. It's great!
> 
> Anyway, thanks for reading and feel free to drop a comment if there's something you liked or if you think I should fix something. See you tomorrow!


End file.
